


let's get it on

by ArgentLives



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Kissing, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Unfortunate Interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4539420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry and Iris just really, really want some quality one-on-one time together, but keep getting tragically interrupted at the most inconvenient times. </p><p>(or: the five times Iris and Barry almost stopped thinking and just started doing, and the one time that they finally did.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's get it on

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt-fill for the prompt: "Five times Barry and Iris were interrupted/walked in on when they were about to do it. May contain a completely mortified Joe West"; I got a little carried away and this ended up being longer than I intended but once again I'm exercising my ability to fill people's prompts who are clearly expecting smut with little to no actual smut at all (like really there's lots of kissing in this but no actual explicit stuff because I don't do that); it would be a talent if it actually worked, but as it stands...hopefully you enjoy anyway, anon!

1\. S.T.A.R. Labs

 

"Bear, that was amazing," Iris breathed, the second she felt the blast of air and the flash of yellow light that typically signaled his presence. She hopped off the table she'd been sitting on, where she’d been monitoring his progress through the computers, and crossed the room in quick strides to tackle him with a hug.

"What?" He blinked, still a bit disoriented from the explosion he'd just managed to prevent, the bomb he'd carried far away from where it could hurt anyone and the subsequent face-off with the trickster—just the younger one, this time, who'd apparently developed an affinity for hand grenades—that he'd won.

"Do you even realize how many lives you just saved? And I was monitoring your speed—that was the fastest you've gone yet, and—wow."

She finally released her hold on him, stepping back and beaming at him with pride in her eyes, and a spark of something decidedly less innocent.

“Oh, that—it was nothing,” he waved it off, trying to be humble, but he felt his chest swell at her praise, a sudden boost in his confidence that had him grinning like mad. After all, her excitement was always contagious.

"Psh, nothing—please, you are _so_ full of shit,” she laughed, pushing his cowl back to run her fingers through his hair, all messy and disheveled; just the way she liked it. There was a shallow gash on his cheek and another just above his eyebrow, along with an already half-healed cut on his lip, the blood at the corner of his mouth still fresh. He smelled like gun powder and smoke, a line of soot smeared across his temple, and he seemed tired, like he’d just very obviously exerted himself, but otherwise unharmed. The suit, fortunately (or unfortunately, she supposed, depending on who you asked) had taken the brunt of the damage from the Trickster’s grenades, as well as the explosion he’d outrun. Cisco was going to throw a fit, she thought vaguely, mostly distracted because _God,_ she was so attracted to Barry right now. This look, all rugged and triumphant, combined with the knowledge of what he’d just done, were—wow. Really, really doing it for her.

“I have to say, Mr. Allen—heroism is very sexy on you."

"Oh?" he grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Oh, yeah," she smirked, looking up at him through her lashes. "Definitely a turn on."

Which was how they ended up, as they so often did, with Iris’s back pressed up against the wall, Barry’s hands creeping up her shirt as her own hands groped and grabbed his backside—really, she could never get enough of his ass in that suit—as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her collarbone, sucking at the skin there before moving up her neck, eliciting a small gasp from her, and then as she moved her hips to grind against his, a moan of pleasure from him, and—

“Oh my _God_ ,” Cisco’s voice suddenly cut in, shattering the mood as instantly and completely as though someone had doused them in cold water. They jumped apart, turning wide-eyed and guilty to where Cisco and Caitlin stood frozen in the doorway, and immediately began stuttering their excuses.

“Guys, it’s not what it looks like—”

“We were just—”

“ _What did you do to my suit_?”

Barry snapped his mouth shut and exchanged a bewildered look with Iris, her jaw slack with surprise as they both slowly recovered from the shock.

“Um—what?”

Cisco threw his hands up in frustration as he marched over to them, finally stopping in front of Barry and gesturing angrily to the once bright-red material of the Flash suit, now nearly unrecognizable. “I don’t care what you two were getting up to, really, I don’t want to know—although next time maybe get a room, please—but what the _hell_ you did to my suit? Caitlin and I were gone for one day— _one day_ —and this is what I come back to?”

Barry crossed his arms indignantly, looking briefly to Caitlin for support—who only grimaced and lifted her shoulders as if to say _‘leave me out of this_ ’—before narrowing his eyes at Cisco, properly offended. “Hey, I thought we agreed it was _our_ suit.”

Iris poked him in the side to get his attention, looking faintly amused, raising an eyebrow at him in question and mouthing _“Our suit?”_ She was still relatively new to this part of his life, after all—there was still a lot he had yet to explain, including everything she’d missed out on in the months he’d been lying to her, and a lot of his adventures with Cisco and Caitlin. He sighed, making an annoyed face at Cisco before turning his attention back to her.

“Later,” he promised, as Cisco began insisting he change at once so that the worst of the damage could be fixed, and the suit—their suit, he conceded—could be salvaged. She nodded, her lips curling into a smirk at the word. “And Cisco, just—hold _on_.”

“Later,” Iris repeated, patting him understandingly on the shoulder, very obviously not referring to just an explanation.

 

 

2\. The Couch

 

"Hello? Anyone here?" Barry's voice rang throughout the house, warm and familiar. Iris heard the sound of the door being pulled shut behind him, the clunk of his boots on the floor as he kicked the snow off them and onto the doormat.

"In here!" Iris called out from the kitchen, pausing in the middle of mixing the batter for her signature Christmas cookies (which were really just regular sugar cookies in the shapes of snowmen and Christmas trees and, like, a _lot_ of extra sugar) and allowing a fond smile to grace her lips. She beamed at Barry when he walked into the room—he was wearing the sweater she'd gotten him, the one she'd insisted he should wear tonight. It was appropriately festive, after all—red with little white snowflakes scattered all across the front, and little snowmen lined up on the bottom. He had wanted to get the blue one, whining that he was tired of red, but she’d insisted that it really was his color. Besides, she thought, glancing down at her own similar outfit—this way, they were matching.

His smile was equally as bright when he walked into the kitchen and spotted her, his cheeks flushed and nose still red from being out in the cold, little snowflakes melting in his wind-blown hair. He looked so cute and so cold that she couldn't help but put her mixer down to kiss him, carding her fingers through his hair to brush away the light dust of snow there and rubbing her hands up and down his arms to warm him up. When she finally pulled away, she was willing to bet his cheeks were tinged pink for reasons other than just the cold.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, still a little breathless, playing absentmindedly with Iris’s earrings, the little jingle ball ones he’d bought her last Christmas.

"Not here yet," she shrugged, gesturing to the cookie batter behind her. "I told you to get here early on purpose, so that you could help me with these. Also because otherwise, you’d probably be late. My dad’s still at the station—which you already knew, of course—and everyone else should be here in another hour or so."

Christmas eves at Joe’s house had become something of a tradition for their rag-tag little team, expanding from Iris and Joe and Barry to include Cisco and Caitlin, Ronnie and Martin Stein, and then later down the line Wally, when he’d come unexpectedly back into the picture, and Linda right along with him not long after. It had always been Iris’s favorite time of year, but she found that it had only gotten better as the years went on, as more people joined their little group. Their _family_. It felt right, and warm, and happy, and despite the fact that neither her nor Barry actually lived here anymore, it still felt like home, and never more so then at times like these.

"I like this," Barry said with a grin, breaking through her train of thought as he flicked the little cotton ball at the end of her Santa hat. "Very cute."

"Well, good, because I got one for you to wear too." She winked at him, preparing to move to the drawer she had it stashed in, only to end up grabbing his wrist as his hand inched not-so-discreetly towards the mixing bowl. "And just _what_ do you think you're doing? Thought you could distract me with flattery, huh?"

"Hey, the flattery was honest," he said defensively, pouting at her. "I was just _trying_ to taste test for you. I mean, you did say you needed my help, right?"

"Yeah, but you have to wash your hands first, duh," she scrunched her nose up at him. "Here, let me..."

She scooped a little bit of batter up with her finger— _she_ had already washed her hands, thankyouverymuch—and held it out in front of his face. He grabbed her wrist to bring her hand closer, and without a moment’s hesitation he put her finger in his mouth, licking it clean. Iris felt her face heat up as his tongue brushed against her skin, a sudden spark of hunger that had nothing to do with food flaring in her stomach. And yeah—Barry was so totally doing it on purpose, keeping his eyes fixed on her the whole time before finally dropping her wrist and licking his lips with exaggerated flourish. Iris felt her gaze inexplicably drawn to his mouth, to the sudden wetness of his lips, imagining where else he could put that tongue to good use and—she felt her pulse quicken, and could tell Barry had noticed the change too, if his smirk was anything to go by.

"Tastes delicious," he said slowly, deliberately, as Iris brought her hand up to cup his cheek.

"You know, Barry," she swallowed thickly, "you still look pretty cold to me. I mean, your skin is _freezing_.” (it totally wasn’t—Barry almost always ran warm) “Is there anything I could do to help warm you up?"

"I'm sure I could think of something," Barry put his hand over hers, leaning into her touch.

"Oh, good, because I can too." Iris pulled her hand out from under his to hook her arms behind his neck, standing on her tip-toes to press her body up against his. “In fact, by the time we’re done, I’m sure you’ll be _really_ hot.”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he grinned, snaking an arm around her waist as she leaned in to kiss him, rough and eager. She swung her legs up and he caught her with ease as she wrapped herself around him, leaning right back in for more. Her Santa hat was tossed aside as he tangled his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer and kissing her hungrily, moving with heavy steps to the living room. A brief moment, and they broke apart, stopping so that he could lay her down on the couch. Just as he was about to join her, something made him pause, leaving Iris quivering with anticipation and impatience at his sudden change in demeanor.

“Barry, please.”

“Wait, Iris, I think I heard—”

She grabbed his sweater and pulled him back down to her before he could finish, capturing his mouth with her own in another heated kiss and rolling over a bit, wriggling this way and that as she attempted to shift their positions. He seemed to catch on—distraction all but forgotten—and allowed her to clamber on top of him. It was just as she was pressing him roughly into the cushions, tugging impatiently at his shirt and then tossing it to the side as he did the same to her, their matching sweaters taking up matching spots on the floor, when suddenly there was a burst of wind that blew Iris’s hair back and a crackle of energy that made them both tense up. Iris lifted her head, looking frantically around the room for its source.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t you, was it?” Iris said miserably, as Barry shook his head beneath her.

“Heeeeey, you two,” came a voice from behind the couch.

“Wally,” Iris groaned, dropping her head against Barry’s chest and burying her face there, unwilling and unable to look Wally in the eye.

“You do know this is supposed to be a family-friendly event, right? PG and all. And oh, man, on Joe’s couch, _tsk, tsk_ —”

“What about my couch?”

“Oh, please, God, no,” she heard Barry mutter, but then sure enough, her dad was walking into the room, in the process of unzipping his coat. He froze in the doorway as he caught sight of them in their compromising position.

“Joe—”

“Oh, hell no,” he dragged a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut like he was trying to rid himself of the image as he backed slowly out of the room. “I do not have time for—Wally, come with me. We’re going for a walk.”

“But Joe, we just—”

“And when we get back,” he went on, as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “Those cookies better be done, and you two—” he pointed in the general direction of Iris and Barry, who were both doing their very best to sink right through the couch cushions, “—better be far away from this room—and any bedroom, too, for that matter—and fully clothed, and if I find out you two— _in this house_ —I swear to God, I’m too old for this—”

“We get it, dad!” Iris squeaked, as Barry finally had the presence of mind to move squirm out from underneath her. He rolled unceremoniously to the floor, hastily pulling on his sweater and chucking Iris’s towards her, keeping his face turned up to the ceiling all the while. “We get it, okay—please, _please_ , stop talking.”  

They waited until they heard the door being pulled shut—after, of course, a jovial _“Remember, kids—always use protection!”_ from Wally, and a lot of muttered _“Too old for this”_ and “ _My goddamn_ couch” from Joe—before daring to move again.

“Well,” Barry said lamely, face a lovely shade of pink, “Never again. I meant never again in this house! Not never again, you know _, ever,_ that would—”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Iris scowled at him, pulling on her sweater and smoothing down her skirt. “Come on—cookies to attend to, and all.”

He held out a hand and she helped pull him up from the ground, tugging at his hand to lead him back into the kitchen.

“Wait—” he said, stopping by the doorframe. She stumbled a bit as she tried to keep walking, his hand still gripping hers while he stayed rooted to the spot, and turned on her heel to fix him with a look.

“ _What_ —oh,” she huffed, following his gaze upward, to the mistletoe hanging above their heads. She couldn’t help breaking out into a smile at the sight of it, letting him pull her in.

“Come on, it’s tradition—just this one, we have to. It’ll be completely innocent. Joe would understand.”

She laughed and gave his shoulder a playful little shove, her tone light and teasing, eyes accusatory. “Real smooth, Barry—that definitely wasn’t there before. Taking advantage of your speed, I see—and you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Actually, I really didn’t put it there, I swear.” His eyes were genuine, his expression frank and honest. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but I definitely didn’t put it there.”

“Then how…” Iris screwed up her face in concentration as Barry cradled her face in his hands, looking equally as perplexed but nonetheless eager, when it hit her. As soon as the realization dawned in her eyes, he must have realized it too, because they shared a grin, saying the name with equal parts exasperation and fondness.

“Wally.”

 

 

3\. Central City Police Department: Forensics Lab

 

Barry bit back a groan at the sound of footsteps approaching his desk. He took a deep breath as he squinted into his microscope and jotted a few notes down, determined not to break his concentration. "Just a minute Captain Singh, I swear! I'm still waiting for the results of that fiber analysis, and—oh."

He blinked, shooting upright in his chair as he felt hands, small and delicate, gently massaging his shoulders. _Definitely not Captain Singh._ He twisted around a bit in his chair to get a better look at Iris, although he already knew without a doubt that it was her. He’d know those hands anywhere. "What are you doing here?"

She clicked her tongue at him disapprovingly, moving out from behind him to hop onto his desk. "Well, by all means, don't sound so happy to see me. I insist."

Barry huffed, flicking her leg with his pen. "When am I ever not happy to see you? I'm just surprised to see you _here_ ; I thought you had work today."

"I did, but I'm on my lunch break. I thought I'd drop by for a visit, because, you know, you left so abruptly this morning. Didn't even get a chance to finish what we started."

Barry swallowed hard, suddenly very vividly reminded of what they'd been up to that morning, before he'd happened to catch a glance at the clock on their nightstand and realized he was already five minutes late to work. Iris shifted a bit on his desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and suddenly he was also very, very aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing leggings under her dress, giving him a clear view of the smooth, exposed skin of her thighs. And God, she looked good.

"Hey, don't blame me—obviously I didn't _want_ to leave. I was already running late though--Singh would've had my head. I mean, do you want your fiancée alive, or...?"

She rolled her eyes at him and stretched, the tight material of her dress hugging her body in all the right places, deliberately moving her leg so that it brushed again his. She rolled her shoulders forward and let out an exaggerated little sigh of relief, and Barry shifted anxiously in his seat, heartbeat pounding in his ears. She winked at him, smirking, and leaned forward a bit, squeezing her arms together so that he had a perfect view down her dress, making sure her cleavage was on full display.

"Oh, I'm not blaming you," She said, pushing his chair back a bit with her foot before sliding off the desk, making sure the edge caught her dress just right so that it slid up her thighs, and straddling his lap. "I was just thinking, since we didn't get a chance earlier, we could pick up where we left off."

"Right now?" Barry squeaked, face burning, a familiar ache settling in him as she moved her hips so that she was practically grinding against him. " _Here?_ Iris, I'm—I'm at _work_."

"Mmm," Iris hummed, leaning in to kiss his neck. "And?"

"I—what if—fuck, _Iris_ ," he'd been about to ask _'what if someone walks in'_ , but then her hands had dropped lower, toying with the zipper on his jeans. She seemed to understand, anyway, as she moved to undo the button right above it.

"Oh, stop worrying. I shut the door behind me when I came in. Locked it, too."

By that point, however, he didn't really need any more convincing, because she was wriggling in his lap, trying to hook her legs around his without falling off his chair. He slipped his hands underneath her ass and stood up, lifting her with him as she wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched at the lapels of his jacket. He kept one hand underneath her, holding her up, and used the other to brush aside the papers scattered across his desk, clearing up a space away from his microscope to place her on top of. A small noise of discomfort escaped her as she leaned back, a wayward pen cap digging into her back. She slipped a hand behind her to move it, chucking it at Barry with a playful grin before letting him press her further against the desktop.

She let out a contented sigh as he trailed kisses along her jawline, down her chest, stalling when he hit the fabric there. He pulled away, and she sat up a bit, propping herself up on her elbows as he tugged impatiently on her dress.

"Take this off," he said, scrunching up his nose at it, suddenly very opposed to the idea of _clothes_.

"You first," she smirked. "Mine has a zipper, on the back. We’ll get to it."

“Fair enough.”

He shrugged out of his jacket as she tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up from underneath. Which was, of course, when they heard the knocking.

"Allen! Allen, are you in there? I need that report on the Robertson case that I asked you for yesterday!"

Iris's hands stilled, Barry's shirt halfway off his body as he looked at her with wide eyes. It shouldn't have been funny, given their predicament, but he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, slightly ridiculous with his shirt pulled around his shoulders and his arms still in the air from where Iris had been in the process of tearing his clothes off. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the sight—and then, of course, once she'd started she couldn't stop. She pressed a hand against her mouth to muffle the sound as Barry frantically pulled his shirt back down and re-zipped his jeans, putting a finger to his mouth and shushing her, telling her to _be quiet_.

"Allen…is there someone in there with you? What is that sound?"

“No!” he yelled, voice cracking, just as another burst of laughter made its way past Iris’s lips, tears streaming from her eyes from trying so hard to hold it in. “That’s—that’s nothing! I’ll be right there!” He smoothed down his shirt and pulled Iris off the desk, gaze searching the area frantically before falling on the pile of papers he’d shoved onto the floor.

“Oh, shit—Iris, help me,” he hissed, gesturing to the papers on the ground.

“Are you talking to someone?” Singh’s voice was irritated and suspicious, bordering on straight up anger. _Fuck, he was in trouble._

 _“_ No! I—I mean yes! I was just wrapping up a personal call, very urgent, and I—I’ll be right there, sir, I swear!”

Iris stuffed her fist in her mouth, biting down on her knuckles in a lame attempt to stifle her laughter, only to dissolve in giggles again as Barry tripped over his chair in his haste to scoop his papers from off the ground.

“ _Today_ please, Allen.”

“Barry, you do realize you have super-speed?” Iris whispered, fighting back a smirk as he meticulously picked up and examined each paper, struggling to put them in order, clearly still very flustered.

“I hate you,” he mouthed, as she kneeled down next to him, laughter still dancing in her eyes.

“No, you don’t.”

 

 

4\. Central City Picture News

 

"Happy birthdaaaay!" a voice sang over her shoulder. Her eyes felt like they were going to fall right out of her head, pupils strained and eyelids drooping as she stared intently at her computer screen. Her hand cupped her chin, elbow propping her heavy head up, as she struggled to stay awake while proofreading her latest piece. Still, despite her exhaustion, she smiled into her palm when she heard him, instantly perking up as he kneeled by her chair to place an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

“Brought you something,” he said, straightening up and depositing a very large, very delicious looking iced coffee on her desk along with not only one, but _two,_ cronuts. God, she loved him.

Immediately, she went for the coffee, taking a long swig from it and letting out a dreamy sigh of content. "How did you know?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "That it was your birthday? Iris, do you seriously think I wouldn't—"

"Not that, you dork," she laughed, swatting his arm. "I mean how did you know that this was exactly what I needed right now? Caffeine. And sugar. Lots of it."

He shrugged, his confusion melting away as he beamed at the items he'd deposited in her desk, happy to have pleased her.

"Well, I just wanted to bring you your favorites. I know you were up late last night, working on that article, and you mentioned that you still had a lot left to do, so. Oh—and this isn't your present, by the way," he clarified, suddenly looking serious, like it was imperative that she understand. It was adorable. "That's at home. This is just me bringing you lunch. Anyway, how's work going?"

"It's…going," she sighed again, tearing off a piece of cronut and tossing it into her mouth before elaborating. "It's just been a rough day, to say the least."

He frowned, moving behind her chair to rub a calming hand up and down her back. She melted into his touch. "Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"You know..." She said slowly, a mischievous grin making its way on her face as his fingers grazed over the backless part of her dress, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. "There _is_ something you could do for me that would make it better. And it would make my birthday _extra_ special." 

“Anything,” he promised, squeezing her shoulder.

“You know that thing you were showing me the other night? That thing you can do with—you know.” She turned to face him, her face an open book, giving him a look he recognized all too well. His eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what she was asking, but he nodded nonetheless. She grinned at him, grateful he understood. “Well, yeah. That.”

“O-kay,” he breathed, rocking forward a bit on the balls of his feet. “Okay. I can do that. Definitely can do that, like, more than happy to do that, just—where?”

That…was a good question. She looked around the building, suddenly impatient and definitely over-eager, for a suitable space and— _there._ “There’s a storage closet towards the back, by the bathrooms—no one really uses it, it’s just, like, where we stock outdated issues and extra paper and such. Sound good?”

He nodded, a determined glint in his eye. “Yeah, that could work. If I’m just—yeah. I’ll make it work.”

"Alright, follow me," Iris whispered, grabbing his hand and scanning the area, making sure the coast was clear. Everyone seemed to be either immersed in their work, or out on lunch break, not really paying her much attention. Although a couple of her coworkers in desks bordering hers did look up as she stood and began pulling Barry away, only to quickly lose interest.

They shuffled discreetly towards the back, tiptoeing towards their destination and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, ducking their heads and hiding their faces before Barry finally came to his senses and scooped her up, flashing her into the storage room and pulling the door shut with a gentle click, faster than the blink of an eye and too quick to be seen. The room was a bit stuffy, and smelled faintly of old newspaper, but it would do. He lifted her and placed her on a random box so that she could straddle it properly, giving him easy access in between her legs. She nodded at him, breath short and stomach clenched, as he pushed her dress up her thigh, pausing to give her a questioning look.

 _Is this good? Is this okay?_   his eyes seemed to ask.

She nodded again, biting her lip in anticipation. _"_ Do it. _Please._ "

Barry had Iris’s underwear—a teeny-tiny lace thing—down around her ankles, fingers caressing the smooth skin of her calves, hands running up the insides of her thighs, getting closer and closer to their destination, when— _BANG._

“Oh my God,” Linda groaned, clapping a hand over her eyes to shield them from view (but very obviously peeking through her fingers). “Iris—I need that box you’re sitting on. And please, God, there are offices upstairs that are almost always empty—you’ll probably be getting your own soon anyway, just—next time, make use of those instead, if you really need to.”

Iris hopped off the box, face burning in mortification as she pulled self-consciously at her dress and slid her undergarments back in place, hiding her face against Barry’s shoulder.

“Oh, and before I forget," Linda paused, giving Iris a teasing grin. "Happy Birthday.”

 

 

5\. Jitters Rooftop

 

 “Iris! I just saw your message; I got here as quick as I could!” Barry panted, skidding to a stop on Jitters rooftop—their old meeting place, Iris thought fondly—the sudden gust of wind from his arrival kicking up leaves and dust around her ankles. She leaned casually against the railing overlooking the road below, her back towards him, watching the cars speed past. She grinned softly to herself before finally whirling around to face him, smile still firmly in place.

“You came.”

"Of course I did, you said to meet you here. What’s wrong? Are you—why are you smiling? I thought you said it was urgent?" Barry frowned in confusion, eyes darting this way and that, searching the area for threats, before finally resting on her.

"Oh, it is," Iris assured him, sauntering forward, hooking her fingers into the built-in belt of his suit and pulling him closer. She grinned wickedly when his breath hitched at the gesture. "I am in _desperate_ need the Flash's assistance. And here he is, my hero, come to save me."

“Iris, what are you—“

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew my name, Flash, how _exciting._ ” He lifted an eyebrow at her, completely nonplussed. She rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently. “Come on, just—play along, I want to try something new.”

"You—that—oh! Right. Well—I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else," Barry smiled indulgently, finally catching on, as Iris’s fingers gently traced around the lightning-bolt insignia. "After all, what other girls, right?"

"That's the spirit." Iris grinned, bringing her hands up to his face to push his cowl back. Feigning surprise, she gasped and put a hand over her heart. “Oh, dear _me_ , I had no idea the man behind the mask was so _handsome_.”

Barry, bless his soul, actually blushed—an honest-to-God, red-rosy-cheeked blush—at the compliment, ducking his head to hide it. Really, she loved him all the more for it, and besides—it matched the outfit.

“So—ah—what can I help you with tonight, Miss West?”

“Oh, a lot of things,” she hummed, "But we can start slow. After all, this is all very new," she whispered, right near his ear, so close he could feel her breath tickle his cheek.  

"Right," he breathed, one hand at her back and the other brushing a lock of hair out of her face, shaky fingers trailing gently along her temple, her cheek, her neck. "I do have a few tricks up my sleeve that I'm sure you'd appreciate."

"By all means, show me," she grinned, lips curling against the skin at his neck, knowing exactly what he was referring too. He vibrated the hand at her back, slowly, maddeningly moving it lower, and she gasped at the shivers it sent down her spine.

"That's—ah—keep—keep doing that—that’s really—oh, _Bar-ry_ ,"

"Guess my secret identity is foiled already," he laughed, and she pulled him in for another kiss, crashing their mouths together with such fervor it had him stumbling back a bit in surprise, nearly making losing his balance.

"Less talking,” she broke away with a gasp, noting with satisfaction that she’d left his lips looking appropriately wet and kiss-swollen, a little indent on his bottom lip from where she’d dragged it through her teeth. “More doing."

He was, of course, more than happy to comply.

"Yes ma'am."

They were just getting into the doing part, Barry steadfastly ignoring the irritating buzz in his ear, when he caught his name among the garbled noise.

“Barry…Earth to Barry… _Barry!_ ”

Barry groaned, finally breaking away from Iris to respond to an increasingly impatient Cisco. Iris made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat at the sudden loss of contact, and contented herself with resting her head against Barry’s chest, pressing her ear against his suit to listen into the conversation.

“ _What,_ Cisco? _”_

“We have another metahuman we gotta deal with, apparently in the process of staging a break in as we speak. So, you know. Get your ass over here.”

“Can’t you—” Barry held back a gasp as Iris’s hands continued to wander lower. He narrowed his eyes in warning as she pouted her lips and batted her eyelashes at him, deceptively innocent. “Can’t you handle this one on your own?”

“Well, actually, hold—mhm…yeah…ah, Caitlin says no. We don’t know the extent of this meta’s powers yet, could need backup—I mean, remember what happened last time, and—wait, why?” Cisco asked, tone suddenly suspicious and teasing, like he sort of knew exactly what he’d just caught him in the middle of. “Am I…interrupting something?”

“Am I meeting you at STAR Labs?” Barry ground out, irritated, ignoring Cisco’s question.

“Yep!” Cisco chirped giddily, like he’d just hit the jackpot. “Say hi to Iris for me, will you, and—oh, what’s that? Hold on—” he broke off, talking to someone on the other line, “right, okay, Caitlin says to bring her along when you come here so that she can keep her company. See you soon, lovebirds!”

“Screw you, Cisco,” Iris huffed, confident that she was close enough where Cisco could hear her through the suit.

“Why, _Iris_ —little old me? I thought that honor was reserved for—”

“Alright, Cisco! Shut _up!_ ” Barry growled, as Iris bit clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. “I get it, I’m coming!”

Barry could practically _hear_ Cisco grinning through the earpiece. “Oh, dude, come on, not in the suit, that’s just—”

“ _Fuck you_.”

“Oh, wow, you too Barry?”

“Tell Cisco this is for him,” Iris scrunched up her nose, stuck out her tongue, and promptly flipped him off.

“What’s for me?”

“Iris is giving you the finger, man.”

“Ooh, kinky. I like it,” Cisco laughed, delighted with himself. Barry squeezed his eyes shut in defeat, curling his hand into a fist and pressing hard against his forehead. “By the way, Barry, I’m still waiting—”

“Alright, that’s it, we’re done here,” Barry said, finally switching his comm off. He looked down at Iris, mouth twisting into a grimace. “Well, I guess—STAR Labs, then?”

Iris nodded. She heaved a sigh as he swept her off her feet and cradled her tight to his chest, letting her head lull lazily against his shoulder. “Lead the way, Flash…and don’t let me near Cisco when we get there. I think I just might kill him.”

 

 

 

 

 

+1

 

"Was this really necessary?" Iris raised an eyebrow at him in amusement, taking in her surroundings. "I mean, where even are we? I feel like you were running for a while. Well, a while for you. As in, we're probably pretty far away from home. And don't think I didn't notice we crossed over some body of water. Was it that lake near—”

"Oh, yeah, that was the ocean," Barry cut her off, shrugging nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, like he hadn't just carried her across the fucking _ocean_ , as he raided the mini fridge to their hotel room. No doubt he was starving after running for so long. Speaking of—

"The ocean—Barry, _where are we_?"

"Not sure, exactly," he said before downing four water bottles in five seconds flat. “Some private island Ray owns, he said we could use it—”

“ _Ray owns an island_?”

“I think? I guess? Like, it’s not too big, but I think—”

“How do you even own an island?”

“I—you just…I don’t know, you’d have to ask him. I mean, he owns half of Starling City too. Dude’s rich. He just gave me the location, and told me we could rent out this place for free, since we knew him and all. I mean, it worked, so I’m not complaining.”

“O-kaaay,” she drew out the word, watching him uncap another bottle of water, this time much slower, briefly debating whether or not to ask him to fetch her something. “Not that I’m complaining either, but—why are we here? You didn’t really explain…”

“Well, I just mentioned that we needed some time away, you know, _alone_ , last time I was in Starling, and he recommended this place, and we—as in you and me—both have the weekend off, and just—do you know what this _means_ , Iris?”

He turned to face her, grinning hugely, waiting for it to sink in. They were completely alone, for an entire weekend, on a private island, away from all the chaos and distractions and interruptions from home and—oh. _Oh._ She kicked her boots off with renewed vigor, swinging her legs onto the bed and crawling on her hands and knees to the edge of it. She laid down on her stomach, folding her arms in front of her and resting her chin on top of them.  

"It means no interruptions," she said, buzzing with anticipation and returning his grin ten-fold. He closed the door to the mini fridge and knelt on the ground in front of her, dipping his head a bit to kiss her even despite the fact that the bed was reasonably high up, and she laughed into the kiss as she felt a familiar tingling sensation against her lips. She pulled back a bit to check, and sure enough, his outline was blurred just around the edges as he quite literally vibrated with excitement. A whole weekend alone, she thought giddily, as he blurred back into focus—she had this boy, her best friend, the love of her life, and expert girlfriend pleaser, all to herself _for the whole entire weekend_. She had to remember to send Ray a fruit basket or something when they got back to Central City.

" _Exactly."_


End file.
